


I realize that youth is wasted on the young

by cosmogyral



Series: westward bound [9]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Multi, Season/Series 03 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyral/pseuds/cosmogyral
Summary: Normally Cheryl would be the only thing worth seeing. In the mirror, but also in general.That ceased to be the case as soon as she caught a reflection behind her and realized it was eight skinny legs, apparently under the impression they’re being subtle about their orgy in her living room.





	I realize that youth is wasted on the young

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsmasher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsmasher/gifts).



> special shoutout to Sara who helped with all of these but ESPECIALLY made Cheryl MUCH funnier

Obviously, the mirror is floor-length. Cheryl holds firm that smaller mirrors are for cosmetics, automobiles, and the poor. She is a column of alabaster and scarlet, punctuated only by the bathing suit and a tasteful six-inch studded cuff. Normally she’d be the only thing worth seeing. In the mirror, but also in general.  
  
That ceased to be the case as soon as she caught a reflection behind her and realized it was eight skinny legs, apparently under the impression they’re being subtle about their  _orgy in her living room._  
  
Fine, yes, her abandoned, burnt-out living room in the ashes of her horrible house, but still. It’s Thornhill. Its shitty little corpse is  _her_  business. Anyway, this was a pool party and the Spacebook event could  _not_ have been clearer:  _BYOB. Ghoulies go to hell. Invite the hostess to all group sex opportunities._  
  
She shifts a little to get a better view. There’s her cousin, obviously, the freakiest of V. S. Andrews rejects. That pile of what she assumed were rags has got to be Jughead’s hat. Which means--  
  
“Oh my nonexistent God,” Cheryl says out loud, whipping around. The foursome rapidly resolves into dreadful individuals: Betty, trying to hide her entire body behind Jughead, which is not physically possible, and Archie fruitlessly attempting to tug his trunks back up, and Veronica, the lone bastion of dignity, looking completely unaffected. Cheryl gives her points for still rocking the pearls. “ _Archie Andrews_. I wasted emotional revelations on you today.”  
  
“Cheryl, I’m sorry,” Archie says automatically, and then his dim but beautiful brow furrows. “Wait, what?”  
  
“Irrelevant. As I realized when Toni and I were motorcycling past the Grand Canyon on our joyous Rubyfruit Jungle of discovery, love is love but a sense of location is priceless. Stop doing the horizontal lambada on my burnt-out parquet immediately.”  
  
“I don’t think this was parquet,” Veronica volunteers.  
  
“My mistake. Out!”  
  
“Cheryl, I’m sorry,” Betty says they scramble back into their bathing suits. She delivers it very differently from Archie since behind her limpid blue eyes is a ruthless and brilliant brain and she probably has at least a human-level awareness of what’s actually happening. “It’s just-- you know, the deadline’s tomorrow, and no matter what happens we-- we wanted to have, you know.”  
  
“That one memory,” Archie says, because he just  _says things_. “Together.”  
  
 _Damn_ her chums. They must know she’s weak against dramatic declarations. She narrows her eyes at Jughead, who is looking almost as unrepentant as Veronica now that he knows that she’s in a good mood. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Come on, Cheryl,” he says. “Serpents always slither in the same pack. Help a brother out.”  
  
Argh! Argh, argh, argh!  _“Fine_ ,” Cheryl says. She fishes her keys out of her coverup and tosses one of them to Jughead. “If you can somehow manage to recapture the mood, this opens the far northeast barn. No promises on its condition. Not that you apparently have any concern for that whatsoever.”  
  
“What?” Betty exclaims, staring between Jughead and Cheryl. “I was just apologizing for--”  
  
“I know. But vita brevis, foursomes longa. Go forth. Try not to think about where my darling mother lives.” Cheryl flutters them a wave. “Toodles.”  
  
Archie goggles. Then grins, suddenly, and drags Jughead to his feet. “Weird present,” he says. “But I’m not gonna say no. Ronnie?”  
  
“Of course,” she says, and levers herself up, graceful and be-pearled. She lingers on her way out the door to flash Cheryl a wicked smile. “Next time,” she says, “when Archie’s exonerated--”  
  
“When we break him out of prison in an exciting team effort with high explosives, absolutely, continue,” Cheryl agrees.  
  
Veronica flutters her fingers at her. “Sure. What I was  _saying_ is, next time-- we’ll pay more attention to the event details.”


End file.
